


Carry The Torch

by casketdream



Category: Motionless in White (Band)
Genre: Begging, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, M/M, Smut, Spanking, Verbal Humiliation, cricky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-25
Updated: 2015-12-25
Packaged: 2018-05-09 09:24:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5534615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/casketdream/pseuds/casketdream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by the Reincarnate spotify commentary of Carry The Torch</p><p>(This is very loosely based off of what Ricky said at the end of the commentary. none of the events in this happened, this is a work of fiction)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Carry The Torch

Ricky's POV

We had been trying to finish the guitar track for the whole day. It was way too cold in this damn house! We could barely move our hands, let alone play the intricate melodies we wrote down earlier. My legs were wrapped in black skinny jeans, my body in an oversized black craft cult sweater and a hoodie. 

I sat in my room, doing anything to keep me warm and make the wretched numbness leave my limbs. Looking around the room I caught sight of the bottles that had accumulated on my bedside table during out stay here. There was six empty bottles of beer and a half empty bottle of vodka. The cold bottle of beer in my hand was only my second one today, so its not like I'm some kind of alcoholic. Alcohol keeps you warm though, right? 

My thoughts were interrupted by the door opening. Chris walked in, wearing a black sweater, gloves and black skinny jeans. He took one look at the bottle in my hand and the empty ones on the table and shook his head. 

"Ricky you're meant to be recording not getting drunk. I don't wanna have to look after your hungover ass tomorrow." He gave me a disappointed look but I knew it wasn't wholehearted. 

"But Chrissy, I'm cold." I dragged out my words slightly, pretending I was drunk and trying hard to keep the smirk off my face. I'm bored, and it's fun to mess with Chris. 

"I'm cold too but how is alcohol meant to keep you warm?" He questioned, moving to sit on the bed with me. 

"I dunno. I think Ryan told me it works." I smiled cheekily, still slurring my words ever so slightly. I shivered as Chris lay down next to me, his body being slightly warmer than mine. I shuffled towards him without thinking. 

"Don't listen to Ryan, barely anything he says is ever true!" He giggled. 

"Mmm that's true." I sighed, cuddling up to him even more. My face was slightly buried in his neck 

"Rick? What are you doing?" He said, sounding nervous and flustered. 

"'M cold Chris." It was getting hard to hold back my smirk.

"So get under the covers. Or wear more clothes. Better yet do some exercise." He said, trying to push me off him. 

"Noooo, I wanna cuddle." I wrapped my arms around his waist, pressing myself to his side. Chris sighed, defeated. 

"Fine." He grumbled, getting the blanket at the foot of my bed and covering both of us. His arm wrapped around my shoulders, keeping me in place. 

I smiled, thankful for the warmth, but my hands were still numb. My fingers were lethargically playing with the hem of Chris' sweater, pulling it up slightly to reveal his pale skin. 

"Ricky? What are you doing?" His voice sounded relaxed and, looking up, I saw his eyes were closed. 

"Nothing Chris." I answered innocently. 

My hand slid up further, ghosting over his skin and exploring his stomach. His hip bones jutted out, not in an unhealthy way, but in a way which showed he was a naturally skinny person. My hand wandered to the waistband of his black jeans, my fingers playing with the rough material, hoping Chris would do something. 

"Ricky." His cold hand grabbed mine, stopping my movements and making me look up at him. His eyes were open and pleading, for what I wasn't sure, but his perfectly drawn on eyebrows were furrowed. "You're drunk."

"No." I shook my head, sitting up slightly. "I'm not drunk Chris." He looked skeptical, which is understandable considering how he thinks I've had a lot more to drink than I actually have. 

"Chris really, I'm not drunk." I chuckled airily. "I had like one beer, the rest was just bottles from the other times." I moved to straddle his waist and his hands automatically latched onto my hips, rubbing small circles on my skin. 

"But you still had a beer." He said. His eyes were clouded with lust but his hands were squeezing my hips, pulling them up away from his. 

"Oh my god I'm not a lightweight Christopher." I rolled my eyes, leaning down to kiss his neck softly. He shivered, one of his hands moving to my ass and the other he tangled in my hair, pulling lightly.

I smirked, continuing to lightly place kisses on his neck. Chris growled lowly. He tugged on my hair harder, pulling my face up to his so he could kiss me. 

Our lips moved together roughly, almost bruising. This wasn't about being soft and gentle, nothing with us ever was. We worked together passionately, relentlessly. That was one thing we always agreed on. We butted heads on most things and right now was one of them. 

Chris pushed me on my back, trying to take control. I automatically tried to push him back and stay on top but he was much bigger than me, making any attempt in taking control look feeble and weak. Chris smirked, realising he had the upper hand. 

"Come on baby, we both know you like it like this." Chris whispered, his hips dipping down to grind his crotch against mine. "Just let me take control, I'll take care of you."

"O-okay." I whimpered, my eyes closing. I was lost in the feeling of Chris' lips against my neck, our hips against each others. 

"Good boy." He praised, his cold hands sliding up my thick black sweater. "Take off your clothes." He said, his voice still quiet and soft but I could hear the commanding tone seep into his words. He got off my body to allow me to stand and take off my clothes.

I obeyed, peeling off each warm layer and exposing my flawless, pale skin to the cold air of the room. I shivered before bending down to take off my jeans. Only in my boxers, I started to feel self-conscious. Chris was looking at me, his eyes roaming my body shamelessly and I could tell he just wanted to mark me. 

"Come here." He said, patting his lap gently. Chris had a way of keeping his voice and eyes hard and demanding but his voice was always so soft and sweet. It was a deadly combination but it was what kept me wanting him and he knew that. 

I crawled over to him, straddling his lap. He reached forward, softly taking my jaw in his hand and connecting our lips. It started off sweet, just our lips dancing together. His hands moved to caress my ass through my boxers, gripping it softly. I moaned into his mouth, giving him a chance to slip his tongue in. I let him take control, I always did. 

We kissed until both of us were gasping for air, even then Chris didn't stop. He just moved back down to my neck, leaving soft bites until he reached my collarbones. He found a spot and started to kiss it, although they quickly turned into harsh sucks and bites. Breathy moans and whimpers left my lips, my hips bucking up, looking for friction. Chris chuckled. 

"You okay, Rick?" 

"Nng. Please Chris." I whined. He slapped my ass firmly and I moaned. 

"Do I need to remind you of the rules?" Chris was challenging me. 

"N-no Chri-" He slapped me again, harder this time, and tutted. 

"I think I do." He turned and shifted so he was sitting with his feet touching the floor. I was still straddling his lap. "Take off your boxers and get on the bed on your hand and knees, slut."

I stood up and slid my boxers off, stepping out of them. He stood up, allowing me to position myself. I got on the bed as he instructed, arching my back. Chris' cold hand ran down my spine to my ass. I whimpered and pushed back against his hand, silently asking for more. 

Chris withdrew his hand, eliciting a whine of protest from me. It quickly turned into a gasp as he harshly slapped me. 

"I only have three rules, kitten. I'm not asking much, am I?" He asked even though he didn't want an answer. I just nodded, staying silent. "Do you remember any of them?" 

I shook my head even though I did remember them. I knew them by heart, like they were etched into my brain and written on my skin. 

He slapped me again, harder this time. 

"Well, since you don't remember any I think you should be punished." He sounded thrilled at the idea of punishing me. "Since I have three rules I think you should get five for each one. Count them for me."

So I did. Each time he brought his hand down on my ass I counted. By the time he got to 10 I was a mess. Shaking and panting, unshed tears clung to my eyelashes and my arms shook beneath me. At 13, I couldn't hold myself up anymore. I fell forward, my face buried in the pillow and my hands clutching the blanket beneath me. Chris finished the last two, my voice coming out thick and shaky. He placed a gentle kiss to my ass, his cool piercings soothing my burning ass slightly. 

"Let me tell you my rules now." His hand gripped my hair and he pulled, forcing me to sit up, my back against his chest. "Rule One: I'm in charge, you must only address me as Sir or Master. Nothing else. Rule Two: if you want me to stop, use the safe word. Do you remember what it is?" He asked, 

I nodded. "Doves." That was our safe word, generic but it did its job effectively. 

"Good boy." He praised but his voice was a growl. "Rule Three: You do as you're told." He pushed me back down, shoving my face into the pillow. 

The bed shifted as he stood up. I glanced over at him to see him taking off his clothes, his pale skin beautifully painted with tattoos. Chris saw me watching him and he smirked, taking off his boxers and leaving him just as exposed as I was. He wrapped his hand around his dick, stroking himself slowly. 

"What do you want, kitten?" He asked, walking towards me and pushing me over so I was laying on my back. 

"F-fuck me. Please." I whimpered, my hips shifting and hands tightening their hold on the blanket. Chris growled and struck me across the face. I moaned, almost certain that my cheek was bleeding from the force of his slap. 

"Did you forget the rules already? How should you speak to me, slut?" Chris snarled. 

"I'm s-sorry Sir." I pleaded. "P-please, Sir. Please fuck me." I looked up at him, tears and desperation clear in my eyes. 

"Beg for me." Chris ran his thumb across my cheekbone. 

"Please, I need you. I need your dick in me, fucking me hard and deep." 

"A little more, pet. Tell me exactly what you want." He said, starting to tease me. He slipped two fingers into me. I stiffened, a choked gasp coming out of my throat. 

"I want you to choke me, hit me, bite me anything Master, please." I said, frantic. "Please. I want you to fuck me so hard I can't walk." My words were slurred together with moans as Chris started to move his fingers. 

"You're so tight. Such a good boy, baby." My hips lifted, pushing back into his fingers and trying to get him to go deeper. "Such a desperate little slut."

He pulled away from my body, making me whine as I felt empty and cold. Chris just laughed, turning me back around so my chest was on the bed, my ass back in the air. Chris pushed in without warning. My back arched and I shut my eyes tightly, letting out a soft cry. He didn't wait for me to tell him to move, he just started thrusting. Harsh and relentless as I was shaking with pleasure.

The second he found my prostate I let out a sob, the tears streaming down my face and onto the bed. He pulled me up again, my back against his chest and both of his hands on my hips, holding me still as he kept fucking me. The room was filled with my desperate moans, the sound of skin slapping against skin and Chris' groans. I turned my head into his neck, panting and moaning. Chris saw the tears coating my flushed cheeks and smirked. 

"Fuck yes. Cry for me, you little slut." His hand moved from my waist and went up to my neck, pressing down hard. "Tell me how much you like being fucked like this." 

"I l-love it. Love having you inside me, Master." I choked out, needing to cum. "Please, please let me cum." 

"Cum for me, kitten, and I'll fill your pretty little ass with my cum." He said, ramming hard into my prostate. 

A few thrusts later and I was cumming, covering my stomach with it and a muffled sob escaping my body. Chris did as he said he would, cumming inside me with a small moan. He pulled out after a few seconds and I whimpered, feeling his cum trickle out of me as I collapsed onto the bed. Chris got up and went to the bathroom, returning with a small damp towel. 

"Are you okay?" He asked as he cleaned me up, placing tender kisses to my red ass. 

I was still shaking from the aftershock of my orgasm and my ass was probably bruised to hell but I smiled, nodding. I winced, forgetting about the bruise forming on my cheek. 

"Yeah, I'm fine Chris." My voice sounded tired. He looked up at me and smiled warmly. "'m not cold anymore, Chris." I grinned, showing my teeth, earning myself a soft smack to my thigh. 

"Asshole." Chris muttered, throwing the towel onto the floor and getting on the bed with me. He picked me up so he could get the blanket and cover our naked bodies. 

"You love me though." I said, drifting to sleep in his arms. 

"Yeah, yeah. I love you, kitten."


End file.
